Money
by ChineseIsGreek2Me
Summary: What use does a superhero have for money? They have unimaginable power and ability above the average citizen, that it can sometimes be unimaginable that they something so normal is their true downfall. Flash knows this all to well.
1. Light Salad

All DC characters and the DC Universe are owned by DC, not me.

* * *

"Please, Bats it's just a thousand," I pleaded. 

"I check my facts, Flash, and the one thing I've noticed is that you are not good with loans of any amount."

I was about to protest that his argument was merely fueled by mistrust, paranoia and a lack of sunlight when he began to list the different debts I had accumulated as Wally West. "You're $200 dollars behind on rent, you nearly had your water cut off last month, you did have your cable cut two months ago, you're behind on your utility bill, $15,000 in student loans, $150 tab at the coffee shop down the street… Do I need to continue?"

I glared at Batman before quietly replying, "Fine," and bitterly turned and stormed down the hallway. I fumed to myself about the vast pile of cash that Batman had been sitting on since birth. One would have thought that a multi-billionaire would be able to cough up a meager $1000 loan for a friend in need, but the Bat had proven that his cash was wedged even further up his clenched ass than I'd thought. I would have to turn elsewhere.

The bank was out. It had been years since I had been able to qualify for a loan. Shayera was probably having enough difficulty making ends meet after the Thanigarian Crisis. Wonder Woman… might be more willing to lend out some amount of money to help a close teammate. Superman might be my best bet though, seeing as Supes was the antithesis of Batman when it came to trust.

I'd ask Supes in private after the Founders' Meeting at midnight. That left me with just under six hours to wait in the orbiting watchtower. Returning to my room I went through all of my possessions on the satellite for the eighth time that month. I knew what I was doing, but if anyone asked, I was cleaning and organizing the 'royal bedchamber'. The rest of the time was spent running around the station performing miscellaneous tasks for J'onn, and watching TV while eating four large family-sized bags of potato chips. Being endowed with a hyperactive metabolism, the constant movement and exertion of energy throughout the day had left me drained enough to fall asleep during the upcoming meeting. So instead of appearing like a five year old who missed his nap, I opted to falling asleep in my founder's chair at 9:30 pm so as not to be late.

Once the meeting was about to start, Hawkgirl found amusement as she sharply nudged me with the spiked end of her mace. I yelped and tried to jump up, only to stumble over my own conference chair and fall hard against Wonder Woman and _her_ metal chair. By the time I got back into my seat Hawkgirl was laughing, Wonder Woman was still expressing concern, Superman grinned kindly, GL sighed cradling his cheek in his hand, J'onn had merely looked over with mild concern, and Batman, as usual, glared down at me. I narrowed my eyes at the Dark Knight before turning my attention to Superman for the start of the meeting.

There was little new other than updates on suspicions of rogue whereabouts and plans. After some further discussion about the watchtower and the Justice League's place in the world we were free to leave for our respective cities. One measly hour that had no information about my own rogues, about nothing that warranted the leagues attention as a whole but rather its mere individual members. But that wasn't important right now.

Superman was always last to leave, and I was always first to leave, so everyone gave me curious looks as they got up from their seats and headed out the door. Batman was the last of the others to leave but before exiting he stopped in front of the door and looked at me, then at Superman, and just left without word or explanation. Finally alone, I turned to the blue boyscout who was sorting the last of his papers on League maintenance schedules.

The usual smile dropped from my face as I looked at the back of his head. I wasn't proud that I needed to ask this question, and even less proud that I was asking him because he would be likely to hand over the money I needed with little hesitation. Plus, he barely knew me outside of my red mask. Sure he knew my name, occupation, and address, but it pretty much stopped there.

"Hey, Supes?... Um… You know I've been a little short on, uh…," I asked quietly, sheepishly.

"Wally?" He interrupted me.

"Yeah?" I asked uneasily, uncertain about what he was going to say.

"Bruce told me about your finances…"

"What-uh… uh… you… ah…," I looked down, unable to articulate a string of words that might be able to turn this situation in my favor. There wasn't much I could say to downplay my debt, especially if Batman had been the one to stick his nose in to stop me from getting a new loan.

I apologized sheepishly and turned to leave as Supes' eyes softened and suggested that I consult a financial adviser. Little did he know that I had done that long ago only to be under the suspicion of buying drugs and having my apartment combed for any illegal contraband. It was because I couldn't explain to her that I spent most of my budget on food. Which I guess means that it must all go to drugs according to the guidelines of her company. Of course they came up with nothing, but I was still refused financial advice despite not having.

Then it occurred to me. If Bats had taken it upon himself to tell Superman not to give me money, then he'd probably gone to all the founders. I ran straight for the source before he could transport back to Gotham.

"Bats!" I yelled when I spotted him in front of the transporters. In the blink of an eye I was nose to nose with him.

The wind from my sudden burst of speed blew his cape back. I glared at him until his cape resettled around his shoulders, giving him the appearance of a foreboding shadow. He hadn't budged, or even flinched when I'd suddenly appeared two inches from his face.

I quietly asked him, "Have you told everybody on this satellite that they should not give me a loan?"

His silence served as a confirmation. "I will give you the loan if I see that you are consistently paying off your debts rather than increasing them."

I paused in thought to consider my options before replying, "I'll see what I can do," even though I doubted that there was anything I could do. He left for Gotham as I went to 'clean' my room again before returning to Central City.


	2. Chowder

I own nothing, unless I made up a character (like the Prof.).

* * *

Having arrived home again… I 'cleaned' for what had seemed to be the thousandth time since the beginning of the month. I sighed as I decided to hock 3 of my favorite music CD's. That left me with only two CD's to listen to over and over and over for ages to come. I also decided to rid myself of the red satin bed sheets I'd been holding onto… you know, for a special occasion if it ever should arise. But that was it for what I could scrounge up for eBay auctions this month.

I stood up and looked around my apartment to see what I had left, and smiled. I had depleted my collection of novels, phone books and all my old college textbooks from the past three years. What I now realized was that there were only two books left in my bookcase, a thesaurus and a dictionary, which could be moved to my kitchen counter allowing me to sell the bookcase as well.

My grin was short-lived. Whatever money I'd make off of those items would barely make a dent in my debt, which meant I would still be accumulating more debt by the time the month was out. This meant no money from Bats.

Tired after about 73 hours of missions, waiting, eating, and a meeting, I collapsed on my bed and fell into a much needed deep sleep.

By the time I got up it was dark out again and an hour away from when I was to arrive at work. A fast shower to rid me of the sweat and grime left from last night's mission and I was ready for tonight's greasy work beneath the police cars of Central City. Most of the League probably thought I was still doing my internship at the forensics lab nearby, but no. Now I was down to being a mechanic on the graveyard shift from seven 'til three in the morning.

Hair combed, body clean, teeth brushed, dorky blue mechanic overalls on, and I was ready to go all in under ten minutes. Don't give me that look, I know I can get ready faster, but my mind usually isn't very sharp when I wake up. Anyway, I needed the extra fifty minutes left over to get to work. It usually took a fraction of a second to get there, but I was determined to conserve my energy by walking to work, no matter how dull it would end up being. So I turned off all the lights in my apartment and headed out.

Twenty minutes in and I wasn't as bored as I'd thought I'd be. I was actually feeling a tad uplifted by being able to view everything around me at normal speed; more at ease and calm. That is however, until twenty-two minutes had passed.

The CCCC, aka The 4 C's, or, more formally, Central City Community College... My college, or at least it used to be my college. I had given it up to work full time to try and fix my debt and accumulate some savings. No such luck.

I ducked my head as I walked past it, hoping no one would recognize me. Again, my luck was bad, and I came across my old Chem teacher.

"Wally?" I looked up. "What are you doing here?" He held a hopeful expression on his face.

"Oh, uh, just… on my way to work," I said.

"Ahh…" he paused, "And what are you doing now?"

I cringed, wanting to curl in on myself and hide from the upcoming disappointment. "A mechanic," I told him quietly.

He shoulders drooped low disappointed. "You can always come back you know. I mean you were one of my best students."

"I know. Have a good day," I said, brushing past him a little unceremoniously. I needed to be on my way.

The rest of my walk I spent brooding about leaving The 4 C's. My old Chem teacher, Prof. Collins, was certainly an overqualified, incredibly fun and informative teacher, but he always felt that students were throwing everything away when they left college with nothing to show. He held a certain disappointment in them, but he was never angry and never blamed them. He just showed the signs of a sorrow that grew with each student that dropped for one reason or another. I looked up to him, and had practically become friends with him, which meant that he felt even more pain when I withdrew from the school. I felt guilty for it, and avoided crossing paths with him ever since, and had succeeded until now.

When I found myself outside of the garage I was surprised to find that I was five minutes early. Usually I procrastinated getting to work until I was five to ten minutes late, and then I donned my cowl and ran the way there. Now I was saving myself the wasteful use of my speed, and hopefully that meant that I'd be eating slightly less food tonight.

* * *

Hope you all liked that. Let me know what you think 


	3. Chile

**Chapter 3**

GL was not a happy camper to be around right now, especially when he was around me.

There were numerous unresolved issues and much friction around the subjects of Shay and Vixen. These issues brought his general mood to what can be equated with a low grumble and sideways glance to all mortal beings. I on the other hand, played in differently to his demeanor.

For months he had done what he thought all good friends should do. He lent me money. Not once, not twice, but many times. Initially, I had every intention and desire to pay back every red cent he gave me. Each month I would scrutinize my bills and attempt to find some way to adjust my budget so I could have contributed some sort of small payment, but found that no matter what I tried, I was always short on one bill or another. I think he had the feeling that he wouldn't be getting any of his friendship loans back until after I graduated, and was content that he was helping me to get an education. That all changed when I quit.

He hadn't known about my decision until I asked him for an additional small loan. He had begun to become uncomfortable about giving me money at this point, but he acquiesced.

I was always sheepish and red-faced when I asked anyone for money, especially when it wasn't the first time. I am proud of everything that I am: a superhero, one of the Founding 7 members of the Justice League, the fastest man alive, great with kids, a lady's man (well I think so anyway), but money, via food, was my one secret weakness. And I was not proud of my inability to accumulate money.

The second the check left his hands and became mine, he smiled and asked, "So how're your classes going?" John knew I did well in all my classes, even despite having some difficulty with focusing on lectures.

"I uh… I'm not taking them anymore," I mumbled, dropping my eyes to look at his feet.

There was a short pause as he stood, bewildered. "What?" he asked in disbelief, unsure if he had heard me correctly.

Another pause followed as I swallowed to loosen my throat enough to whisper. This time I looked up at his eyes, my head still slightly tilted forwards. "I'm not taking them anymore."

He blinked and started searching my face, "W-w-what?... How? Was it too many absences due to League duties? Did your grades slip? What happened? What can I do?"

I hate having to recall what I said next. John was willing to do whatever it took to get me through college, and I knew it.

My stomach, the source of my problems, became numb as I stood up straight and looked him square in the eye. "I'm just not going," the way I said it made it clear that it had been my decision to axe my own education, and that there wasn't a truly justifiable reason that I would give him. I went cold in that instant. I'd just severed one of the closest friendships I'd had. Sure we didn't talk too much about ourselves as Wally West and John Stewart, but we were the same people in the costumes as we were in civilian clothes.

So it was no wonder that he went off on me. He yelled about how I was throwing a good future out the window. And I took it knowing that I deserved it, until he began criticizing me about being irresponsible and mooching money off of him.

Now, you see, I was never adopted from the orphanage I grew up in, and before I got out I got to see many other kids ahead of me go into the world and find themselves in the gutter for one reason or another. When I got out I made a vow to myself never to end up like that.

Now John was making it seem like I was on that same path. In response, I blew up at him, pointing out his flaws and instances of irresponsibility throughout his much longer life. When we finally parted in stony silence we had both forgotten that I still had his check.

For days I refused myself the financial relief of cashing it in, but when the month's bills started rolling in… it became evident that I wouldn't be able to afford either my heating or watering bills without that money.

I deposited it in my account.

I paid my bills.

John has yet to forgive me.

I have yet to forgive myself.

That's how I found myself wasting time staring at the directions on the back of a box of pancake mix. I had read the same lines again and again absentmindedly as I thought back to the argument I'd had with GL.

* * *

Sorry, but I'm not too pleased with this chapter, mainly due to how I structured the fight between Flash and GL. But even still, let me know what you think. Comments and even the most brutal of critiques are welcome, they let me know what I'm doing right and wrong when writing a story like this. 


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